Mad Father
by kairiluvzu830
Summary: 10 year old Clarissa Morgenstern has been living with her father and their house maid and nurse, Maryse, for nearly two years. She is well aware of how much time Valentine has been spending in his study room, but what actually goes on in there remains a mystery. Will her curiosity actually kill her? Rated T for violence.
1. Chapter One: In the Middle of the Night

**Hola guys! This is my third fanfiction and, like my others, this story is based on another. It's a computer video game called Mad Father. It has pretty much the same plot, just different characters, events, blah blah blah. I'm going to warn you, I usually don't finish stories because I get tired of them…but if I get a lot of feedback, I think I can manage to finish it. I have the main plot in mind already. I'll do my best and I hope you enjoy the story!**

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Chapter One: In the Middle of the Night

Valentine had always been a responsible father to Clarissa. He had never failed to cheer her up if she cried or brush her hair if there were any stubborn knots. His heartfelt laugh was all she ever needed to make her happy.

Jocelyn was the same. She read her stories during the harshest storms and cooked her favorite meals. She passed away two years ago from a terrible fever. Clary must have cried for hours the first week. But her father was still there, wiping her tears.

_"Remember what your mother said about her spell? The one that would make you happy?"_

_ "Yes…'Smiles are like angel wings, flapping while the angel sings. Our smiles will always show, while our love continue to grow.'"_

_ "Very good. Your mother will always watch over you, as long as you smile."_

_ "With all the angels?"_

_ "That's right, Clarissa."_

If her father hadn't been right beside her, she would still be mourning today. But she had some suspicions and uncertainties about him lately. Straight after dinner, he retreats to his 'study room' with Maryse and doesn't show his face again until morning. She had been feeling some sort of 'attraction' between him and Maryse.

Maryse has always been a pleasant lady, but Clary tries to avoid her because of her suspicions. She may be only ten years old, but Clary surpasses the average intelligence of a young teenager because she spends a lot of the time reading in her library. And she had read a great amount of love fantasy books. She is well aware of the changing behavior and language between her father and the nurse.

Clary never dared disobey her father, as he can be quite frightening if he is enraged. Whenever she is caught cleaning knives or playing with broken shards of glass, she is scolded. She has never been inside the study room. She had remembered him telling her tales about the room to scare her, but she secretly never believed them. But fearing that her father would get angry, she kept her distance from the its entrance.

Clary had just finished her dinner and had offered to wash the dishes. Her father grinned and smoothed back her hair. "There's no need, Sweety. Go to bed and get a good night's rest."

Clary nodded and went on her tippy-toes to kiss her father on the cheek. "Goodnight, father." Maryse was tidying up the dinner table and putting the dishes in the sink.

"If you want, Maryse can-" But she had already ran up the polished wooden staircase, pretending not to hear him, without glancing at Maryse. She entered her room and closed the door lightly, heart pumping a bit faster than normal. Clary didn't feel sleepy enough to lie down, so she reached into her closet for her dolls. She did this often to distract herself from thinking about Maryse. She pulled out two of them and a toy comb. Clary fixed the silky, blonde hair and brushed it with the comb.

Her father had made her many beautiful dolls, since she had no friends or siblings to play with. Her mother used to sow outfits for the dolls. But now, the dresses were slightly torn and tinted with dirt. Clary felt the corner of her lips slide down. Almost as if a weight had brought down her shoulders, she was suddenly upset.

She stood up and opened her top drawer. She pulled out a picture of her mother and sat down on her bed. In this picture, her mother was in a blue and white dress. It was the last picnic they had gone on as a whole family. _I miss you, mom. _Before the burning tears could get passed her eyes, she slid under her covers and turned to the wall.

Clary placed the precious photo under her pillow and whispered goodnight to her mother. Eventually, she dozed off into sleep.

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Her eyes peeped open after a noise that could have made her ears bleed if it were close by, though she couldn't decipher what it was. She couldn't get her eyes open and nearly fell back asleep. Her head moved forward and banged into the wall. She clenched the top of her head and scrunched her eyes together. She opened her eyes and found the picture plastered against her head somehow. As soon the pain went away, she sat upright and removed the picture from her face. Clary rubbed her eyes and whispered to herself, "What was that?" She got out of bed and felt the ground wobble beneath her. She glanced at the clock and it was a little bit past 11:00 p.m.

She walked out of her room and saw that all of the lights were off, making it difficult to see further than a five feet radius. She held onto the railing as she carefully made her way down the stairs. She continued on the maroon carpet, looking for any sign of danger. Clary started with the east wing, opening and closing doors as she passed, with the occasional call for her father. After briefly searching the first floor, Clary tried to tame her nerves and stood still to think clearly. _The sound should have been very loud, but it sounded far. It couldn't have been on the second floor, which means… _

Clary cautiously made her way to the door to her father's study. She stopped in front and reached for the knob. She was vaguely aware that she has never been passed this entrance and may be eaten alive for all she knew. But the unnerving noise she heard must be enough for an excuse. This could be her only opportunity to see the study. She forced her chin up and opened the door.

And she saw a normal study room. Book shelves aligned the walls. A large table with stacks of books and a bright lamp was placed in the middle. There was even a comfy looking couch towards the back and porcelain statues of people for decoration. Clary wasn't sure what she expected, but there was nothing here.

But there was another door within the study. She tried twisting that knob, but it wouldn't open. _Father must be inside here. _She needed a spare key, or something to pry it open. Clary rummaged through his drawers. The only contents she found were papers and folders. She vigorously tried picking the lock with a paper clip, but it wouldn't budge. She stood on one of the chairs and brushed her hand across the top surface of a cabinet and found nothing. Her eyes scavenged the room and noticed something about the statues. She came down from the chair and studied the statues. They were life size, with real fabric for the accessories and clothing. Basically only the skin was porcelain. Going around the room, it looked like stages throughout a child's life. There were unique poses, like a baby crawling or a girl doing a cartwheel. She made her way to the most developed statue. It was a grinning, young girl with a hand up in the air, as if she were waving. She was holding a doll in her hand that rested beside a handbag. Clary put her tiny fingers inside the bag. She felt something hard and heard a _cling _inside the porcelain. Clary raised herself as high as she could on her toes and grasped the item. She pulled it out and sure enough it was a silver key. Clary plugged the key into the slot of the door and turned it.

The door pushed inward, revealing a set of staircases that she couldn't even see the bottom of. Before making any silly mistakes, she snatched the flashlight she had found inside a drawer and the handbag around one of the statues to carry it if there were another light source. She didn't know why she was getting so prepared for walking down a flight of stair, but something was telling her that she might not get out for a long while…

Clary held her flashlight in front of her as she took her first steps down the stone stairwell. The view trembled because of her shaking arm. It was a surprisingly long way down, but she finally stood on the basement floor. She was ready to bolt back up. There was a long hallway that curved, and it was aligned with lit torches. Torches. Everything felt a little too medieval. At least she didn't have to waste batteries, she thought as she put her flashlight away.

"Father?" She called out to no one. And no one answered. Clary reluctantly walked down the corridor. Her indoor shoes clacked against the stone floor. "Maryse?" She knew she was desperate if she had called out her name. Clary wanted to run down the hallway and find her father, but she didn't exactly want to sprint to her doom. Doom? That's an exaggeration. She hoped.

She saw a couple of doors up ahead. But stopped abruptly when she heard a faint noise. She couldn't tell if it were coming from behind or in front, so she stood still. As the scuffling noise increased, she was definitely sure it was coming from behind. Digging her nails into her palm she turned around. She saw an inhumane human in the distance crawling on all fours at lightning speed, like a bug. Clary suppressed a scream as she sprinted forward. The scuffling didn't fade away. She dared to glance back and saw that it was gaining on her. She couldn't care less about where this hallway went to, she needed to get out of that thing's sight. Her handbag bounced much to her annoyance on her leg. Breathing heavily, she looked back and saw the monster scurry over the walls and the ceiling, leaving red marks wherever it stepped.

It scampered with frightening speed and made horrible squealing noises. It was directly above her now. Clary nearly tripped over her own feet and tried to see ahead through her water-filled eyes. The squealing monster seemed to drop on her as the noise suddenly escalated.

It was cut off by a swift sound of air, followed by a soft noise. Clary couldn't see what was happening as she stumbled into something in front of her. The tears must have spilled out, now that her vision was clear again.

She sat on top of a blonde boy, who looked not much older than she was. He had a bandage wrapped around his right eye, but his left was golden and as calm as a seashore. "Are you okay?" Was the first thing he said.

Clary nodded and quickly got off of his stomach. Her heart still hammered against her small chest. She struggled to walk straight as she inched closer to the thing that was chasing her. It looked human, but was rotting in a few places and was missing chunks of flesh. Two knives were pinned to its head. She looked past it and saw its trace of bloody foot and handprints scattered everywhere. If this boy weren't here, what could have happened to her?

"Wha- what was that thing?" She said with her voice trembling. The boy soundlessly walked by her and retrieved his knives from its body.

"A dead corpse." The boy said simply. Clary stepped back from him a bit. He was covered in blood and had a few wounds on his arms and chest.

"But how can that be? Who are you and what are you doing in father's basement? Where is he?" Clary felt herself shake with fear.

He could sense her fear and gave her a heartwarming smile. "It's okay." Clary stopped inching away. "I'm not here to hurt you. I promise I'll try to answer your questions as best as I can. But for now," he held out his left hand, "we need to hurry; there may be more coming."

Clary definitely couldn't put all her trust into someone who was covered in blood and so many wounds. But if she were going to find her father, she was going to need more than herself. She somehow found her hand in his. "Umm…!" He turned his head. "Thank you very much for saving me."

The boy gave an accepting smile, "You're welcome." He almost began running before he added, "Clarissa."

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**Hallo fanfiction readers! So that was the first chapter. I didn't want Clary to be a teenager because I wanted to show some cute innocence in her that I feel wasn't shown often on this site. Anyways, follow and favorite if you enjoyed it. Leave a review for me and tell me how it's going, or tips I can use. It would mean a lot to me! Stay awesome :)**

**~Beanie Wayland**


	2. Chapter Two: Truth

Chapter Two: Truth

The boy was exceedingly fast. Too fast for any person with untended wounds to move. He pulled her along the long hallway. He knew exactly where he was going; turning into other hallways the second they came up without any hesitation. Everything was too overwhelming for Clary. "Wait a minute!" She attempted to tug herself from his grip, but it did her no good. "I still want answers!" Before she knew it, they had reached an end of a passage. There was a large, metal door to their left. They stopped and Clary took advantage of the time. "Who are you anyway?"

"Jace." He released his grip on her wrist.

"How do you know my name, Jace?"

"I overheard your father talking about you."

"Why are you in my basement?"

He flinched a little bit, making Clary worried about his answer. Instead of answering, he pushed through the metal door. He stepped in first, but she now wasn't sure about this. She couldn't see much into the room, even by squinting. She saw Jace very slightly, just his silhouette. "Don't be shy. I won't turn into a demon like the one you saw."

She walked in with trembling legs and couldn't believe her own eyes. Around the room, there were metal tables, stained brown and red, with leather straps for arms and legs. There was another door leading elsewhere towards the far end. Gray bags were also scattered about. Clary approached one, but was stopped short by Jace's arm. "It's better if you don't see what is in there."

Clary's skin tingled to every tip. Her voice wavered, "Please…tell me what is happening."

Jace's eye looked reluctant, but he did as she asked. "This may be hard on you. Are you sure you want to know the truth?" Clary gulped, made two fists beside her hips and gave a single nod. "Your father is a scientist." She was already confused. Father wasn't a scientist. _He was a baker…wasn't he? _"For whatever reason, he has been luring homeless people into this lair and cuts their bodies apart."

Clary clamped her hands over her mouth. He couldn't be telling the truth. She knew her father wouldn't do any of the sort. He wouldn't… "He and his assistant stuff the rest of their dead bodies into gray bags like those." Jace pointed to one. Clary didn't dare wonder how many there were. "A while ago, there was an outbreak of angry souls of the people slain by your father. I was your father's latest victim, but luckily I was spared because the bodies started chasing after your father and that woman Maryse." Clary looked horrified. Jace realized what he had said and added, "Well, it's not a good thing, or anything-"

"How could you have known about this if you weren't one of _them_?"

"I _was_ on the verge of death at the time." He turned and lifted his stained, ripped shirt halfway, exposing the incisions on his back. For some reason instead of going cold, Clary felt her face burn with heat. He faced her again and let his shirt fall down into place again. "For all I know, I could be dead right now." He was grinning for some reason, which made Clary back away. "Are you afraid of me?"

She backpedalled faster and felt her back bump into a tray. A bunch of bloody dissecting materials spilled onto the floor with a clang. Clary nearly slipped and landed on a knife, but Jace was already there. He caught her with his hands pressed against the wall behind her, arms holding her up as they nestled underneath her shoulders. His forehead ever so slightly rested on hers. She stared into his one golden eye. Although it was only one, it had the depth and beauty of two.

Clary asked suddenly, "Was it my father who took out your eye?" Jace looked away, as if he were remembering something painful. He backed off slowly, making Clary's heartbeat slow down a bit.

"Yes." He said with his back facing her. After a short pause he continued, "But don't let that distract you. I believe he truly loved you. He talked about you often." Clary was filled with an ounce of hope. She wanted to ask Jace how long he'd been in here, but she couldn't bring herself to do so.

"Then why would he do such things?" Clary said instead and rested against the table in mental exhaustion. It was all so far-fetched. This was her father they were talking about. He's no monster. "Father…" Clary clenched her fists to prevent tears from pouring out. "I wanna know. I need to know."

Jace shuffled a little with his feet. "Maybe it's best if you leave this place. Who knows what will happen if Valentine sees that you've found out?"

Clary shook her head stubbornly. "I must! He won't listen to anyone else. Besides, it's not safe here, with corpses out to get him." Usually when her father did something wrong, her mother would be the one to straighten him up. Clary had to take up that role. "I have to stop him from taking any more lives."

"Clarissa…" Jace's shoulders drooped slightly.

Clary looked up at Jace, who was a few feet in front of her. "You should escape before Father finds out you're alive."

Jace looked stunned for a second, but then smiled at her. "I can't possibly leave you alone now. You're not the only one who wants answers. Besides, who will be there to protect you?" Clary looked down at her feet and smiled. Something she hadn't done in a long time.

"Thank you, Jace. Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without you." She didn't feel alone anymore. She was so grateful towards him. "You have no idea….how scared I was when I was running for my life. Therefore, I will always be-" Clary had meant to look at Jace, but he had soundlessly came up to her and wrapped his arms around her.

Clary was in shock for a moment, but then embraced him herself. She felt as if butterflies were soaring inside her, but at the same time, she felt calm and collected. A feeling so familiar, but unfamiliar. His golden hair was as soft as a dove's feather. He smelled of lemon and cleanliness, despite his clothing. "You just might be the first person to ever tell me that." _That's right… _Clary recalled. _He had no home…_

She shut her eyes. "I'm not afraid."

Jace pulled back to look at her and tilted his head in confusion. "What?"

Clary smiled. "I'm not afraid of you, Jace."

Jace shook his head, but his smirk remained. "Truly, Clarissa, you are one of a kind."

She had not asked anyone except her mother what she was about to say to Jace. "Call me Clary."

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Clary and Jace gathered materials for the journey ahead of them. They found scissors, tape and other supplies they may need. Who knows what kind of trouble they would stumble upon? Clary stood up from her crouch and zipped up her handbag. She was surprised to see the sharp, shiny edge of a blade on eye level. Jace held out a knife to her. "Here, you may need this to defend yourself."

Clary shook her head in what felt like fear. She remembered how many times she had been scolded for playing with sharp objects. Jace gave an understanding look. "I know it might be unnerving for you, but you can't go in there unarmed." Clary bit her lip and took the blade from his fingers, careful not to touch the thin edges. Clary wasn't sure what she was doing with it, but she was trying to figure out how to hold it correctly.

Jace shook his head and looked at her hopelessly. He wrapped his right hand around hers, making her jump. The knife would've slipped out if his grip weren't so tight. He fixed her small fingers to make a much more comfortable position. "The thumb rests on the little ledge and the side of your pointer rests under it. Got it?" Clary wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying. She was too busy pondering this feeling she was having. She had never had a friend before. Clary would only leave her house for picnics or family gathers. But never before had she made a friend.

Apparently she was thinking too long. Jace's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Clary?"

"Hmm?" Clary said with wide open eyes. "Yes I got it. It feels much more comfortable now." She saw that her hand was firmly grasping the weapon and tried to remember its position for later uses. If only she'd listen better…

"It's about time we get a move on." Jace declared. Clary agreed with a twinge of reluctance. She gently placed her knife inside her back pocket. They were about to proceed to the next room, but stopped once they heard moans coming from the right.

Clary whirled her head around and caught sight of Maryse, who was sitting in the very corner of the room. She opened her eyes and managed to croak, "Mistress, is that you?"

Clary ran to her. "Maryse!" As Clary came closer, she realized that her hands were covering a puncture in her stomach. Her usually tidy apron looked as if she spilled a few drops of fruit punch in the front. "You're hurt."

Maryse had a pained expression, cringing just to get some words out. "Yes, but I'll be fine. Forget me. Just get yourself someplace safe. It is…too dangerous in here."

Clary felt shivers run through her. She asked, "Maryse, where is Father?"

Maryse's eyes flung open, as if she were splashed with a bucket of cold water. "The doctor! I must save him…" She pressed her palms against the wall and raised herself up. However, she fell against the ground again before even standing. Clary caught her just in time.

"You can't with those wounds." Even though Clary had a grudge against Maryse, she always felt a twinge of sympathy for her because she put up with her own recklessness with a sincere smile. Clary had never cared for her as much as she did now. "Where is father?"

"He's further in…His wife, she…" Maryse had trailed off softly and her eyelids had closed.

"His wife? You mean my mother?" Maryse didn't respond. Clary reached out to her shoulders, about to shake the life out of her, but was cut off by Jace's hand. He pressed two fingers on the side of her neck. "Relax, she has only passed out." Clary sighed in relief.

"What did she mean about my mother?" Clary wondered. There was only one way to find out. Determined more than ever, she picked her up by the arms.

Together, Clary and Jace carried her to one of the tables. There wasn't any chance they could carry her with them. Jace assured her, "She should be fine in here if we lock the entrance." Clary nodded and did as he suggested.

Clary met with Jace at the other door. Before taking another step, she glanced back at the nurse. She was a little paler than usual, but she seemed sturdy enough. Clary could have stood there forever if Jace hadn't given her a little push on the back.

**Hey there! You have just read the second chapter :) I'm hoping to get a little more feedback to continue this story… So follow and favorite if you enjoyed! Leave a review and tell me how it's going. Til next time!**

**~Beanie Wayland**


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